


Kiss with a fist (is better than none?)

by Ejunkiet



Series: Dragon Age Anthologies [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Another take on the Rival!Mance..., F/M, Gen, fluff-but-not-fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Try that again, without permission, and I will <i>burn your face off</i>."</p><p>Written for the drabble prompt 'kiss with a fist' by Loquaciousquark, before it took on a life of its own. Somewhat altered events, where the death of Hadriana is not so straight-forward, and an awkward attempt at romance falls flat on its face. May/may not get a sequel.</p><p>Also, Florence and the Machine. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss with a fist (is better than none?)

 

 

 

### A kiss with a fist (is better than none?)

Where the death of Hadriana is not so straight forward, complete with awkward romantic fails.

\-----

He waited until they had nearly left the holding caves, and the abomination had made his excuses – twitchy and impatient, pleading that he had a patient in labour, and twenty more waiting as he sent sidelong glances of barely restrained animosity towards the elf, who couldn’t say he cared much for the mage’s company either - and left, before Fenris stepped forward, raising a hand and gesturing for his companion to wait.

“ _Stay,_ _Hawke_.”

His lips curled, features twisted into a contortion of anger that had simmered within his blood and coiled, waiting, in his gut, since he had left the hands of his former master, hands soaked with the blood of a dozen nameless warriors.

He’d claimed his freedom that day, reclaimed the life that had been taken from him, and could claim for himself the lives he was owed.

It was a short list, and Hadriana’s was one of the few.

His companion- whose features were not nearly as harsh as the name ‘Hawke’ implied - watched him from across the narrow courtyard, her eyes dark and glittering in the shadows as they followed his path across the cobblestones. She didn’t speak - a nice change, if he were so inclined to acknowledge it - but at this moment just served to add to the ichor in his belly. He met her eyes, a growl rumbling deep at the base of his throat, but still she did not speak. His expression twisted, a d his control slipped; lyrium flashed, sending the room into sharp, white contrast as he closed the distance, finger crooked to point at her chest. His words were a low, guttural growl in his throat. “We may have our differences, Hawke, but the kill was mine. You had no right to take her death from me.”

The pale light illuminated the hollows of her face, the bruises that darkened her eyes, the bloodstains on her robes. The sight was unsettling, sending a shiver down his spine; and this was the first time he had seen her with the evidence of her victory, aside from a dusting of ash from a charred corpse. A moment the length of a breath than her hand shot out, shoving his away, the flickering light of the lyrium sputtering and sending them both into darkness. He retaliated, grasping her wrist and swinging them both to the side, sending their bodies colliding with the courtyard wall. His hands tightened, and he angled her wrists inwards against her chest, forcing her body to take whatever spells the mage cast in retaliation. Her hands, with the bloodstains on the fingers, were loose in his grip. She did not attack him - but he wasn’t willing to take the chance. She was a mage, her friends were more demon then human, and he did not fool himself that their relationship was anything more than what it was -mutual assistance.

They were not friends; barely tolerated each other on a better day. His jaw clenched, and with his grip tight around her wrists, he increased his weight on her as he forced out a growl from between his teeth.

“ _Speak._ "

"If the situation were any different, I would have left her to you." Something shifted in her expression, and it threw him. For the first time since they had met, the antagonism that had always lingered in a smirk of her lips was gone. "But it wasn’t."

Her eyes narrowed, and her tone turned petulant as she elaborated. “We may have our _differences,_ Fenris, but I have no desire to watch you die. She was a _blood mage_ Fenris; she had a dagger, and it was aimed at your heart.”

His words were thrown back at him, but he didn’t react - couldn’t react.

"Check my bag, if you’re still uneasy; it was a pretty thing that will fetch a pretty price." She smiled a thin, hard smile, the sarcastic quirk to her lips returning, before she made her move. Focusing, she sent a layer of frost skittering down the sleeves of her arms, chill to the skin as she took his moment of surprise to twist her arms sharply, slipping them out of his grasp. Ducking, and raising her left arm as if to throw a punch, she leapt forward, grabbing his wrists and binding them as her body weight knocked into him, throwing him off balance and sending the both of them colliding against the wall. She may be a mage, but she had a _brother_ , and if she didn’t know a few tricks to use against men who were larger than her, she wouldn’t have made it as far as Kirkwall.

Her grin was vicious as she leaned into him, settling the weight of her body - and twin stone fists - against him until she was sure he couldn’t move. His snarl was her confirmation - and _really,_ who fucks with Lady Hawke?

"Now…" Her eyes glittered as she lifted her head to meet his haze, narrowed and pinched in the flickering light as his lyrium flared again. She let some of her _own_ anger show through in her show of teeth, a gesture she was unsurprised to see him return. “If you still wish for a different result, I’d be happy to steer you towards a nice nest of dragons that has appeared on my land.” With another snarl, he lurched forward, bucking his body and twisting in a way that she almost - _almost_ \- lost her grip. “You can fight them naked, to minimize your chances of survival as much as possible, and give me a nice _show,_ for my wasted time and effort- mmph!"

The words caught in her throat as he suddenly leaned forward, bound hands grabbing _hers_ , crushing her chest beneath the unyielding steel of his chest plate as he pulled her towards him. There was a brief pause as he hovered above her, lips curled, breath warm against her cheek as his eyes flickered across her features. Then he closed the distance between them; lips, pressing and urgent with a flash of teeth, crushing against hers, and it took her a moment to realise that he was _kissing her._

A breath later, her fist had met his face.

He took a staggering step backwards, bound hands rising to his face, only to find himself hemmed in by the courtyard wall. Blood dripped between his fingers as he cradled his nose, possibly broken, considering the continuous stream of Arcanum that slipped between his lips - and if she were feeling at all sympathetic, she might have pitied his expression: a bewildered shock and anger, at himself, or at her reaction, she couldn’t tell.

At that moment however, she couldn’t find even a _hint_ of empathy for him.

“Try that again without permission, and I will _burn your face off_.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes lowering to somewhere near the vicinity of his feet, a complicated expression playing across his features as she shoved herself away from the wall, increasing the distance between them. She watched him for a moment, at the tension in his frame as he hunched over himself stiffly, one hand clutching a steel gauntlet as the other pinched the bridge of his nose, and she clenched and unclenched her fist to alleviate the sting in her knuckles. She hadn’t held back, a little bit of telekinetic energy leaking into the swing to bolster it, and his nose probably _was_ broken, and painful, considering the way his breath hissed through his teeth. She should do something for him, as she knew him well enough to know for _certain_ that if she didn’t, he would leave it without treatment, preferring scarring and possible breathing problems to approaching the grey-warden shacked up in dark town for help.

She didn’t know how she felt about what happened, the sudden change in relationship from _rival_ to possible romantic interest too abrupt for her to deal with her feelings on it. She had to do _something_ , though.

She focused on that thought, and resolve firming, she approached him, carefully prying away his fingers as hers glowed with the white light of spirit energy. He tensed, attempting to move away from her touch as her hands came adjacent to the damage, resting against his cheekbones, but she sent him a warning look, and begrudgingly, he glanced away and let her work. She touched him only once more, to reset the cartilage of his nose, before the healing was done and her hands retreated back to neutral territory.

Another moment passed with neither side willing to speak, and she had resolved to just _leave_ and deal with this later, when Fenris's low growl broke the silence.

“That was..."

He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words, and with a lopsided smile, she finished for him. "Unexpected?"

"I’m sorry.”

“…it’s fine. No... _lasting_ damage. Is there anymore pain?”

He shook his head, touching the arch of his nose with a small wince, his mouth settling into a grimace.

"None that I don't deserve." He met her eyes, finally, scanning them in a furtive movement, before he straightened, lifting his arms before her. "Release me."

She obliged, removing the charm with a touch to his wrists, and without speaking further, they parted ways.


End file.
